


Voice of Reason

by Payload



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blackwatch (Overwatch) - Freeform, Character Death, Depression, Fall of Overwatch, M/M, More tags as I go, Overwatch - Freeform, Regret, Selectively Mute Hanzo, Talon Invasion, There's a lot of dying in this, Transistor AU, You've been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Payload/pseuds/Payload
Summary: "Finally," Jesse's voice whispered, "I can see your face. I was beginnin' to think I'd never see ya' ever again, sweetheart."Hanzo's heart squeezed in his chest as he heard the voice of the man he loved so dearly. Yet, there he was, dead in front of him."Ya' gotta' get outta' here, past the gates and into the streets. They'll be comin' to find this sword again."





	1. The Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't visible at first, as it was hidden behind the plants and tall grass. When Hanzo did carefully walk closer, he spotted a cowboy hat. He saw the evidence of a mechanical hand dangling on the stone floor. A dark pool of blood stained and scarred the floor below him. Hanzo immediately assumed the worst, and he was right. It was the worst possible sight he had ever seen. 
> 
> Against the tall brick bed of the tall grass lay Jessie McCree's body, slumped against the wall. Blood soaked his chest plate, drizzling down onto his pants and ultimately the ground. His serape had made it through thick and thin, seemingly untouched and the only thing keeping the dead body warm at that point. His skin, his beautiful tan-kissed skin, was sickly pale and stiff to the touch. His brown eyes were closed, and his full lips were trapped. He was absolutely lifeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my transistor au fic! I had been meaning to do this for awhile now, and I'm glad I got to start this finally. I hope you enjoy, and if there are mistakes, I will be editing them later. I am too eager to get this out.

It all started out so normal.

The Overwatch crew had gone about their day. Hanzo went to the training room. Lena, Hana, Lucio, and even Jamison joined all together for breakfast. The older crew was found in the breakroom where the nearest coffee machine was. Old bones needed the energy, always. Everyone needed their energy for the upcoming mission, the usual escort and defend in the city of Hanamura. It was an odd job request, yes, but it wasn't something the crew wasn't familiar with. 

But it was taken away so easily. Why was that so?

"Stop trying to shoot! You will get yourself killed!" Yelled the old soldier in the visor. Everyone was rushing for a back route, a safe room. You could hear the loud explosions and blasts of firearms behind them. They were catching up. 

Jack being the natural leader, those who had the skill and ability followed his lead. There were too many of them, completely and utterly surrounded, for them to fight back. What were six people going to do against a whole army on their doorstep?

Who was left eventually made it to the safe area, at least for now. Those who were able to keep up were Hanzo, Pharah, Lucio, Mei-ling, and Hana Song. Jack pressed god knows how many buttons on the keypad next to the door before it slammed shut, the sounds of metal locks filling the tense silence.

 Lucio was the first to speak up, "What... What's happening?"

"We don't know," Replied Pharah, pulling off her helmet, "I could barely see anything because my comm was messed with. I almost died trying to get here to inform someone... but I was too late."

Hanzo was just as shocked as anyone else, but he stood strong in the corner, listening to their frantic conversation.

"We have to go out there and do something!" Mei-ling interjected through the arguing, "We can't leave all our friends behind like that! For all we know, they may be captured by these people." Her arms crossed over her chest. She had her set with her, yes, but she was only dressed in a lab coat, helping Winston at the time of the invasion. 

"They're Talon agents," Jack pointed out, his expression unknown under that mask of his, "I don't understand. How could we not pick this up on our security?"

"Maybe, it has to do with something about my comm getting interrupted," Pharah added and glanced down at her thunderbird helmet, "We have been dwindling down their walls all these months, yet they have proved to easily pass our defenses. They could be listening to us right now!"

"Mei has a point. We can't just stay here while our friends and family get killed," Lucio paced around the room, the happy musician not so cheerful anymore. 

"Do  _you_ want to die?" Hana argued, speaking up, "I can't call my mech because it was hacked. There is no way we can get out of here!"

Hanzo grew annoyed, and when the bickering slowly escalated to screaming, that's when he intervened. 

"Do you ever think that we can just wait here? Clearly, this room is stocked with cameras to watch the entrance! We watch until we have an opportunity to leave, and whoever we find on our way out, we take," Hanzo proposed in a deep voice, shushing those involved, "Lucio is a medic if we need one. We all have weapons, and if we all think the corner is too unsafe, I can quietly check. Mei-ling is able to board up a wall if we so need it. Soldier and Pharah have damage. Is that so hard to understand?"

"I don't see anyone else complaining," Jack Morrison sighed before walking up to the desk terminal. It recognized him immediately and displayed the array of cameras they had at their disposal. Talon soldiers were sweeping the halls for any survivors, by the looks of it, and Hanzo swore he heard a scream, one strikingly familiar. The clock on the desk felt so slow when watching the cameras because no one knew what was about to happen. Someone could jump out of nowhere, whether it be an ally or an enemy. 

The small group agreed to go along with Hanzo's plan, seeing no one thought of any better plan of action. The halls were messy and broken, eerily quiet too. Everyone, even Lucio, crept as quietly as possible. Solder lead the shaky escape, but it was Hanzo who checked the hallways and the corners for any roamers. He had the best hearing, after all, and the best sense of prediction. An archer  _must_ have those skills if they wished to survive. 

They managed to get out of the living quarters alive. Only one problem arose, and that was a heavy, a tank in simple terms. Hanzo had head-shotted the two guards behind him in a fluid manner. They had to make noise, however, once it came down to attack the bulky soldier. Pharah and Soldier managed to dwindle it down while Lucio was there for support. Hana couldn't do much but shoot since her mech was currently out of the question and commission. 

Passing the kitchen, they finally escaped into the fresh air outside. The dark clouds above mimicked everyone's mood, but it was when they turned around that corner did Hanzo wish he braced himself. 

It wasn't visible at first, as it was hidden behind the plants and tall grass. When Hanzo did carefully walk closer, he spotted a cowboy hat. He saw the evidence of a mechanical hand dangling on the stone floor. A dark pool of blood stained and scarred the floor below him. Hanzo immediately assumed the worst, and he was right.  _It was the worst possible sight he had ever seen._

Against the tall brick bed of the tall grass lay Jessie McCree's body, slumped against the wall. Blood soaked his chest plate, drizzling down onto his pants and ultimately the ground. His serape had made it through thick and thin, seemingly untouched and the only thing keeping the dead body warm at that point. His skin, his beautiful tan-kissed skin, was sickly pale and stiff to the touch. His brown eyes were closed, and his full lips were trapped. He was absolutely lifeless.

It earned a reaction for those who dared to walk over and witness the horrid death. Lucio, who had been close to the man, gasped out in what sounded like pain, and he halted his friends to say back. 

There was a very particular thing about it, however. 

A dragon blade was plunged through his heart. It wasn't Genji's, Hanzo inspected, but it glowed a mint green. It was thin like a Japanese blade should be, and from what the archer could tell, it curved at the end, according to the angle. A large gem, a dark maroon in color, merged in between the sharp edges near the bottom section of the sword close to the hilt. Around the gem had a lighter red outlining. From there, lines branched out and followed the swords skyward to the blade, ending in an arrow. Small yellow attachments poked out of Jesse's chest, but it was too deep to really get a good picture of it. 

Hanzo neared close. It had been too many years since he had touched a sword, wielded. The real question was why Talon would use this weapon choice? Were they trying to mimic Genji? Did they even  _try_ to think about-

"Who's there?"

It startled everyone, and at first, no one knew where the voice came from. All they knew is that it was McCree's voice. Were they going crazy? Was  _Hanzo_ going crazy?

"Hanzo? Darlin', is that you?" The source was the sword. The lit up every time McCree's voice filtered through, and it was beyond Hanzo's understanding.

 _Jesse, is that you?_  is what Hanzo wanted to say, but his voice was nowhere to be seen. He didn't know what to make of this situation, but his hands had lingered near the hilt of the sword. 

"Pull," Beckoned the sword, "Pull!"

Hanzo obeyed, not without cringing. The cold weather of winter was starting to have a real effect on him, his skin beginning to shiver. He was successful in his endeavors though. The masterwork blade was light and easily used, but the more he held onto the sword, the more the guilt ate at him. 

"Finally," Jesse's voice whispered, "I can see your face. I was beginnin' to think I'd never see ya' ever again, sweetheart."

Hanzo's heart squeezed in his chest as he heard the voice of the man he loved so dearly. Yet, there he was, dead in front of him. 

No one spoke a word to them. Clearly, they understood the magnitude the Shimada was suffering through, trying to understand the unexplained. 

"Ya' gotta' get outta' here, past the gates and into the streets. They'll be comin' to find this sword again," Jesse explained before quickly adding, "Take my poncho, darlin'. You're shakin'."

The archer finally noticed, but that wasn't the only reason why. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before slowly walking up to his dead body. The serape was pulled off with ease, and Hanzo found all the comfort in the world when he wrapped it around his shoulders. He felt the warmth, and the smell of cheap cigars and whiskey filled his nose like it was the only thing he would ever come to know anymore.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. 'm right here. Listen to my voice, and we'll get through this together, alright?" His voice sounded so convincing. 

Hanzo could only nod, the lump in his throat too much of a burden to swallow. 

It was Jack who shook his shoulder to wake him, "He's right. We need to get going before they come back. We are in no condition to stay. I'm afraid you'll have to leave his body here for now."

That was the hardest thing Hanzo had ever done. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that the sword in the game is big and bulky and two-handed. I am WELL aware since I have played this game like a religion, but for plot purposes, it changed sizes. Trust me, you'll know why when we get there!


	2. A Haunting Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You promised that you would never touch a sword ever again, not after what happened. His demons whispered in his ear in an almost taunting tone. Disgusting. How are you going to get your honor back now? 
> 
> Hanzo shook his head. It had been so long since he had heard these voices itching at him. Years, maybe, had it been. His pre-Overwatch days were dark and haunting, and he had the scars to show for it. It was only clear now why it was reappearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I'm alive! Sorry for the wait.

The streets of Hanamura in the morning were busy, bustling with activity. Many different shapes and colors could be seen, and that only encouraged the group to blend in. Of course, that was hard considering their weapons and recognition as official Overwatch Agents. Luckily, there were so many people passing by, they didn't notice. 

"You think the safe house in the inner city will be untouched?" Asked Lucio. He was the first one to say anything after they escaped the base walls. They were too shaken up to say anything of importance, especially the wounded party involved. 

"Perhaps, but we can still try. If not, then we will have to contact the closest base. No doubt it's on the news now," The Egyptian replied, her voice still as strong as her mother's. 

It would be hard to leave Hanamura. No doubt Talon knew there were survivors sneaking about. They were going to hold up the city until they were found. 

Plus, they had left behind something very important. 

The more they walked deeper into the city, the more Hanzo felt on edge. They were being watched. The goosebumps on his skin weren't just from the cold. They weren't because he was about to have a mental breakdown. 

Hanzo grabbed Soldier's forearm, alerting him to stop the group. He sucked in a breath and started to speak, but... nothing came out. His voice was taken away, and because of it, his hand gripped the sword tighter. McCree hadn't made a sound yet. Hanzo tapped his throat frantically. 

"He can't speak," Mei pointed out blankly. With a worried brow, she pulled the group to the side to check on him, "Lucio, I don't see an injury." 

Lucio glanced at the man for permission before gently pushing against Hanzo's Adam's apple, "Try to hum." 

Hanzo obeyed, and his voice filtered through his throat in an almost melodic tone. It was much different than his regular humming if that made any sense to him at all. 

"Okay, I don't see any problems. His throat feels fine," Lucio sighed. 

"Oh no," The cowboy's voice sprang out of the silence. It was the first words they heard from the blade since the base invasion. 

"We need to get to a safe place.  _Now."_ Jack urged. The commander started down the alleyway as did Hana and Pharah. The others sighed and followed his orders, and Hanzo hesitantly did so too. 

He glanced down at the sword, Jesse. He carefully placed it on his belt, luckily he had no legs to cut when the blade hit the metal of his prosthetics. Every time his hands brushed against the sword, a pang of guilt and sorrow rang through him. 

_You promised that you would never touch a sword ever again, not after what happened._ His demons whispered in his ear in an almost taunting tone.  _Disgusting. How are you going to get your honor back now?_

Hanzo shook his head. It had been so long since he had heard these voices itching at him. Years, maybe, had it been. His pre-Overwatch days were dark and haunting, and he had the scars to show for it. It was only clear now why it was reappearing. 

But time seemed to slow to a complete halt once they turned the corner. His hand was still on the hilt, but through his eyes, Hanzo saw a layout of the scene before him. It was a Talon agent that was still as a cat. At first, Hanzo was confused, but the voice of his beloved entered his ears again. 

"I think it's a thing for the sword, love," Jesse whispered, the light emitting whenever he spoke, "You can seem 'em, can't ya'?" 

Hanzo could, so he pulled the sword out with his left hand. In his childhood, he had often found himself wielding his swords with his left hand despite his right arm being his shooting arm. And with that, he saw that he had two skills. 

The Shimada hesitantly walked forward before he could control his own body. He raised the sword up before slamming it down, the two agents being highlighted. He did it again before a different move ensued. It was a more physical move, the other one being a more ranged skill that he was familiar with. The rush of battle he was all too familiar with returned to his abdomen like when he played with his little brother with wooden swords and eight-year-old hearts.

Hanzo released this feeling, and like time herself continued her line, he defeated the two agents behind his target. They dropped like flies, and a gasp was heard in the alley. The Archer was on the other side of the corridor of buildings while the group had just turned the corner.

It took him a minute to process what he had just done. A ringing in his ears blocked out the world as the bloodied sword in front of him continued to flash lights in frantic rays, McCree talking. Then the sword was dropped, and he looked to his hands. Blood. He was shaking, and his vision, all blurry with droplets escaping the corners of his eyes. A hand shook his shoulder, and when Hanzo spotted Mei trying to pick the sword up, she was electrocuted, fried. 

_Hanzo._

It was McCree's voice in his head. Was he going crazy?

Everything was happening so fast. 

"We need to get her to a doctor and quick," Soldier hissed. He used his enhancements to his advantage and picked her up effortlessly. She had passed out, the poor girl. 

Fingers snapped in front of his face, and the welcoming sight of McCree's face entered his gaze. 

It wasn't McCree, however, only the spitting image of him faded and untouchable. 

_Snap out of it._

Hanzo dropped to his knees. His head hurt so much. All these emotions were overwhelming his brain, and his artificial limbs suddenly twitched and painted with the color of red, a haunting color. 

_"I have forgiven you,"_ said his brother, mere millimeters from slitting his throat with his blade. Genji withdrew, the memory still so daunting and vivid, " _Now you must forgive yourself."_

*

They had found an unlikely ally when they arrived at the safe house. 

Before that, they had agreed to take Mei-ling to the safehouse regardless. Lucio seemed to point out that her little buddy was keeping her alive and her heart pumping. She would live, but her wounds would keep her bedridden until the lot was sure that she was in safe condition. At least she had lived, and luckily, it wasn't her blood on the bedroom floor. 

Zenyatta was found laying the lifeless body of Sombra on the spare twin bed. His gloved hands were soaked in blood, to the looks of it trying to stop the bleeding. She was barely grasping onto life when they had arrived, and Zenyatta had done all he could within his ability. Now, all they had to do is wait for the inevitable release of breath from the hacker. 

All of them, Soldier, Hana, Lucio, and even Hanzo had joined Zenyatta in praying for her and a peaceful passing to the otherworldly plane. 

Sombra specifically requested for all of them to exit the room while she passed on, but she stopped Hanzo. His hands were so shaky around the sword, the events of the hours prior still in his head. 

"That's . . . a pretty sword you got there, Shimada," Sombra laughed weakly, her face pale of life. 

Hanzo couldn't respond. No words would let him. So, he looked to the side of the room in shame. 

"He ain't much of a talker now, honey," McCree spoke up, not even much scaring the woman on her death bed. 

"We were attacked by their omnic slaves," Sombra began, "They are keeping them against their will, threatening to emp them. They stole my abilities," She shuffled in her bed, discomfort following her ever inch of movement, "I . . . I could have stopped this, you know?"

Silence.

"I wasn't fast enough," Sombra further explained, "I didn't know which base they were attacking, and they knew I had some dirt on them," She cursed something in Spanish, and Hanzo could hear McCree sigh from the sword as if he understood.

"You did what you could," Jesse whispered before addressing his wielder, "Love, bring me close to 'er, will ya'?"

Sombra opened her mouth, but her lungs decided breathing deeply was more important than talking. Hanzo obeyed and laid the sword on her stomach. She didn't get electrocuted, and somehow,  _somehow,_ she was communicating with him. 

"I hear ya'," McCree spook lowly, waiting a brief moment before humming, "You don't have to suffer anymore. Join me and don't be scared."

Hanzo was confused, and it wasn't until Sombra finally let out her last breath of air did he understand what he meant. 

"She's here with me, sweetheart," The liquid-honey voice said, "I can speak with her. She's with me. She looks free."

_What do you mean?_ Hanzo desperately wanted to ask. 

"Yes, yes . . .  I see," A silent pause, "Sombra has transferred all her stored information and I . . . Yes, I know, it's okay." 

The sword must have done the same thing that it did with McCree, but only he could communicate with him verbally than she. He kept shushing, unaware that Hanzo could hear him. She must be upset . . . or  _happy._ She was free, yet Hanzo was not. 

The warrior set the sword down on the side of the bed before turning to the passed Sombra. He wiped the hair from her face before closing her eyes. She died not a warrior's death, but one that won't be forgotten. Perhaps in that very sword held her home, her illusion, where she could run through the streets and be a kid again. Becoming a target would no longer be a problem. Her parents would greet her at the door, and she would feel the warm air on her face and-

_Calm down._

Hanzo let out a deep breath. 

_It's going to be alright._

 

 

 


End file.
